


Slipping Through my Fingers

by levele3



Series: Sister Serenade [2]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: ABBA, Alternate Universe - Human, Budding Love, Crushes, Cute, Debutante Ball, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Inspired by Music, Music, Musical, Performance Art, Serenade, Singing, Sisters, Song Lyrics, Songs, sisterly fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3
Summary: Marianne has to face an incident in her past she would rather leave forgotten. It's the night of Dawn's debutante ball and her sister has a very special performance for her.





	1. Slipping Through my Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for ages! I think this song is perfect for the fairy sisters.   
> Disclaimer: I know nothing about debutante balls. I'm from Canada and this is all made up. Inaccuracies are my own!   
> I dedicate this fic to my own dear sweet sister <3 Love you Em <3   
> Enjoy!

The imposing structure of the pristine white building was just as intimidating as ever, and made Marianne feel small and vulnerable once more. The white Grecian columns towered above her. Statues of Hermes, Athena, and Zeus look down on her, judging her with their blank marble stares. Marianne took several deep breaths before climbing the elaborate front staircase and going through the main doors.  

As much as she hates it the lobby smells like home and comfort. The good and bad memories fight for dominance. She had a happy childhood here. Some of her most fond memories of her mother were in this building. Memories are all that she has.

Marianne hasn’t been in this building for six years. Not since the night she stormed out of here, making a huge scene, leaving a stunned and stuttering Roland in her wake. 

She has grown up a lot since that night. At least that’s what she tells herself.  

Marianne approached the clean white marble counter of the reception desk, and is forced to give a fake cough before the young girl behind the counter takes notice of her.

The girl behind the counter gives Marianne a look of upmost disgust upon seeing her. Marianne is no longer apart of this girl’s white-bread view of the world, doesn’t fit in with her idea of perfect. Marianne walked into this knowing she would be out of place but realizing how right she was just makes her stick out more.

“I’m here to see Griselda” Marianne said.

The girl behind the counter continues to stare at her blankly, as if she doesn’t understand the words Marianne is saying. The teen is unable to justify her presence in this sacred space. To be fair the young lady behind the counter is in a white tennis dress, and probably has matching white tennis shoes on her feet. She has long straight blonde hair and light blue innocent eyes. 

Marianne is actually dressed rather conservative for this meeting. She’s wearing black leggings and black boots that come up to her knees adorned with lots of shiny silver buckles. Her eye makeup is smoky purple in a shade that matches her skater dress. Marianne’s short brown hair is streaked with purple as well.    

“Griselda King” Marianne encouraged, “head of entertainment, I’m Mar-”

“Marianne!”

At the sound of her name Marianne turns to see a stout woman with frizzy red hair as she comes waddling down the hall.

“Well bless my soul” Griselda said, pulling Marianne into a tight embrace, “it’s been years since I’ve seen you. All grown up and famous now, _tisk tisk_ ” she chided.  

“It’s good to see you too Griselda” Marianne said, blushing somewhat from embarrassment at being called ‘famous’. 

A few years ago Marianne had won a reality TV singing competition. Now she had two platinum selling CD’s (a third one on the way), her own makeup brand, and she had even had a few minor roles in some made for TV movies. All before the age of 24.   

“Don’t you have a comb?” Griselda asked, eyeing Marianne’s wild tangle.

“Uhhh”

“Well come on then” Griselda said, tugging on Marianne’s arm to lead her down the wide marble hallway, “the band’s a-waiting!”

***

The band turned out to be just two guys both of whom Marianne recognized. A dark-skinned man, Sunny waved at her from behind the drum kit. Marianne knew Sunny very well; he was one of her sister Dawn’s best friends.

“Hey Marianne!” Sunny said, cheerful as always.

That was when the second guy looked up from tuning his acoustic guitar.  Marianne had to catch her breath; she had forgotten how blue his eyes were. In an instant she was fourteen again and standing awkwardly in front of her first crush. He was sitting on a wooden stool, a microphone adjusted to the height of his guitar. He was wearing a plain black fitted t-shirt and black jeans, and black cowboy boots. Marianne could see the pointed toe of his boots sticking out from under his pant leg.

“Obviously you know Sunny” Griselda said, “and this handsome man is my son, Bog.”

Bog turned his gaze from Marianne to glare at his mother.

“Mother” Bog hissed through gritted teeth.   

“He’s a big fan of yours!” Griselda smiled wide.  

In that moment Bog turned red, looking absolutely mortified. 

“Well, maybe I could sign something for you” Marianne offered with a smile, finding her voice at last.

Bog glanced back at her, a hint of surprise on his face, but then went back to tuning his guitar.

Bog and his mother didn’t exactly fit in with the ideals of the Fairfolk Country Club any more than she did. Dawn was the only reason Marianne was back here at all.

Dawn was eighteen this year and was now being officially named a member of polite society. Part of the tradition of the Debutante’s Ball was that one of the girl’s mothers would sing a song honouring the debutantes. Dawn had somehow got it in her head to nominate her sister. Against all odds Marianne had been voted the best for the job, much to the chagrin of some of the other mothers. 

Marianne’s rock-n-roll, punk fairy-princess image clashed terribly with the uptight members of the Country Club. Part of her wondered if she was being set up to fail.  

Bog strummed out the cords to a song Marianne recognized, Deep Purple’s _Mistreated_. An odd choice for a warm-up song she thought. Usually people went with _Smoke on the Water_. She remembered the summer Bog had started working at Fairfolk. 

She had been twelve and Bog had been sixteen. She had accidently run into him when he had been out working in the gardens around the property.  Marianne had been on the verge of tears when Bog had helped her to her feet, cleaned up her scraped knee, and sent her on her way. Ever since that day she had had a bit of a crush on him. It had nearly broken her heart when she accidently stumbled upon him kissing a girl behind one of the big rhododendron bushes, two years later. 

When Marianne turned sixteen she had started dating Roland Greene, the son of one of the other Country Club members. They had dated for almost two years, until the night of Marianne’s Debutante Ball when she discovered Roland kissing another girl. In a panic after being discovered Roland had followed her inside where she made a huge scene about breaking up with him. Marianne had been so furious, instead of going off to collage like she was supposed to Marianne had auditioned for a singing competition TV show on a whim. So far it had turned out to be the best decision of her life.

Sunny stopped beating on his drums, “so, Marianne what did you have in mind?”  

Bog wouldn’t admit it out loud but he was jealous of the way Sunny could talk to Marianne with familiar ease. Not only was she now a famous singer, she was super pretty. More than that; she was exactly Bog’s type of woman. He owned both of her CD’s and had posters of her up in his room. Still he remembered her as the little girl who had bumped right into him his first day of work. Bog had also bore witness to her discovering her cheater of an ex and the ensuing chaos.  

“ABBA” Marianne replied, “ _Slipping through my fingers_.”

It was a song that held a special place in her heart, and Dawn’s too. Their mother had sung it to them often when they were little. If she was still alive it would have been the song she would have picked for the debutante graduation. More than that Marianne had begun to feel guilty about not always being there for Dawn now that she was away on tours and working on songs. 

Bog said nothing, only raised his eyebrows as Marianne handed over some papers with the guitar chords for the song. 

Sunny gave the song a solid beat, something for Bog and Marianne to keep time too. He started with a gentle hit to the bass drum and followed with brush to the snare. 

On the third run through Bog began to sing along to the chorus under his breath, he didn’t even realise he was doing it until Marianne had called out “stop.”

“What, what’s wrong?” Sunny asked, confused, “I thought we sounded great.”

“I think we sound amazing” Marianne said, “Bog why didn’t you tell me you could sing?”

Sunny let out a chuckle of surprise behind her, “of course Bog can sing he-”

Sunny cut himself off when Bog shot him a warning look.

“Aye, Ah can sing” Bog said, looking up at Marianne.  There was a challenge there, an unsaid ‘so what?’ and something else.

His face was red again but Marianne didn’t know what he had to be embarrassed about. A voice like his should be heard. 

“We should get you another mic, I want you to join me on the chorus” Marianne said, her eyes shining.

“What” he sputtered.

Griselda waddled off, a new swagger to her wide hips as she went to fetch another microphone and stand. 

They practiced the song a few more times, this time with Bog singing along to the chorus.

Even Sunny couldn’t believe how well their voices harmonized.  

“That was a great practice guys” Marianne said, as Bog packed away his guitar.

“Yeah, this is going to be the best Debutante’s Ball ever!” Sunny agreed.  

“Alright, see you guys tonight!” Marianne said.

She was surprised to find she had a huge smile on her face. Marianne was genuinely happy. For the first time in what felt like ages. She always felt better when she was performing, up on stage with her all girl band, the crowd cheering her name, but this was a different kind of high. She turned around in the door way and wiggled her fingers back at the guys. Marianne even winked at Bog. She had no idea why she did that but felt absolutely rewarded when he turned bright red once more. It was more than she could handle. The cute older boy she used to have a crush on was all bashful around her now just because she was famous.  

***

Marianne toned down her makeup a bit for the actual ball. She had on a long formal, sleeveless gown in a rich purple that she paired with a pair of sparkly black low-heeled sandals. She also tamed her usually wild hair, gelled it so that it only stuck out to the sides instead of straight up. She couldn’t believe that she was sitting back in her childhood bedroom. Looking at herself in the vanity she hadn’t sat in front of in almost seven years. She had gone simple with her jewelry, opting for a silver and amethyst butterfly pendant necklace, one of the last gifts she’d received from her mother.

“Deep breaths, tough girl, you can do it” Marianne pepped. 

“Marianne, are you ready?” Dawn hollered from down the hall.

 “Yeah, just a minute” Marianne said, slipping her matching amethyst drop earrings in. She turned to see Dawn standing there in her doorway, all dressed up and looking like a woman.

“Marianne?” Dawn asked, concerned by the look on her sister’s face.

“Dawn, you look” Marianne had to choke back her tears, “so much like mom.”

“Funny” Dawn said, a sad smile twisting her pink lips, “I was going to say the same thing about you.”

Marianne walked over and pulled Dawn into a tight embrace, “I’m so proud of you, and I know mom would be too.” 

“She’d be proud of you too” Dawn agreed, returning her sister’s hug.

“You really think so?” Marianne asked, unsure. Her mom probably wouldn’t have wanted her to drop collage to pursue a signing career.

“I know so” Dawn said.

“Come on, Cinderella, let’s get you to the ball” Marianne said, looping her arm with her sister’s.

***

Marianne had to take a deep swallow when she saw Bog sitting on the stage, plucking at his guitar once more. He looked even better than earlier in his black dress pants and white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his tan muscular forearms. The top few buttons of his shirt where undone as well showing just a hint of chest hair. He had even traded in his boots for a polished pair of black dress shoes.

“You clean up pretty good King” Marianne said, walking up the few stairs to the stage.

Bog looked up at her with surprise; he hadn’t heard her come in. The stage was hidden behind a heavy velvet curtain for the moment, but they could head the milling crowd on the other side as the proud parents and other important members of the club filed into the Primrose Room. It was the main function room for everything at the club.

It was where Marianne had dreamed she would one day have her and Roland’s wedding reception. 

Bog’s mouth was dry, it was a miracle he had kept his jaw from hitting the floor. Marianne looked stunning. After a beat he realised he should probably say something.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” he said. It wasn’t until the words had come out of his mouth that Bog realised what he had said, or how flirty he had sounded.

He could count on one had the number of conversations he had had with Marianne Faye over the years he had known her. This was quickly becoming the most awkward.

Marianne blinked at Bog’s phrasing, was he flirting, with her?

“Yeah, I know. Hard to believe there’s still a face under all that makeup, am I right?” Marianne joked, trying to ease the sudden tension between them.

Bog was on the verge of saying something when Sunny suddenly burst through a side door onto the stage. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt and navy pants. Marianne had a sneaky suspicion that Sunny’s dress shirt would match Dawn’s dress.  

“Sorry I’m late” Sunny huffed.

“You’re not late” Marianne said.

At the same time Bog grumbled, “Yer not late.”

As head of entertainment Griselda also acted as the MC for the event. She read a couple poems about growing up, gave a lovely speech on the virtue of the four young women who were being honoured, and then introduced Marianne and the two guys accompanying her. That was when the curtains swooshed open and Marianne could see how crowded the room beyond really was. More people than usual had turned up to the ceremony; she thought maybe they had come to see her.  

Sunny started in on the beat, and Bog picked it up.

The four debutantes stood up. There was a girl in a lovely pale lavender dress who was much darker skinned than Sunny, a Muslim girl in pale pink with a silk Hijab to match, Dawn with her golden curls in pale blue, and a girl with long red ringlets and freckles dressed in pale green. Marianne was surprised, but pleased to see diversity among the young woman, even though she knew it was only because their parents had money. These old bigotry rituals were becoming a thing of the past, and without new blood would die off.

“This one’s for you mom” Marianne whispered, looking up to the ceiling before bringing the microphone to her lips. 

The rest of the room faded to non-existence as Marianne turned towards her sister and began to sing;

“Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning, waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile, I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness, and I have to sit down for a while.”

Marianne heard someone sniffle and even from up on the stage she knew it was her father. 

“The feeling that I'm losing her forever, and without really entering her world, I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter, that funny little girl” Marianne quirked her lips at Dawn.

Dawn had tears shining in her eyes, as the four girls began to walk up the aisle to the stage. She hadn’t known what song Marianne had planned to sing.

Bog joined in on the chorus, just as they had practiced, “Slipping through my fingers all the time, I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it, slipping through my fingers all the time, do I really see what's in her mind, each time I think I'm close to knowing, she keeps on growing, slipping through my fingers all the time.”

There was a quality to his gruff voice that just added something to the song Marianne felt. 

Each of the other girls stopped on one of the stairs leading up to the stage but Dawn came right up to her sister. Marianne took Dawn’s hand and squeezed it. She turned to sing directly to Dawn instead of the room at large.

“Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table, barely awake, I let precious time go by, then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling, and a sense of guilt I can't deny, what happened to the wonderful adventures, the places I had planned for us to go.”

Bog sang the echo “Slipping through my fingers all the time.”

“Well, some of that we did but most we didn't, and why, I just don't know.”

The sister’s shared a smile, and they turned still holding hands to sing out at the crowd together.

This time Marianne, Bog, and Dawn all sang the chorus together; “Slipping through my fingers all the time, I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it, slipping through my fingers all the time, do I really see what's in her mind, each time I think I'm close to knowing, she keeps on growing, slipping through my fingers all the time.”

Marianne never noticed the way Bog kept stealing glances at her.  

Marianne sang solo again, “Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture, and save it from the funny tricks of time.”

She cupped Dawn’s chin in her hand.

“Slipping through my fingers” Bog and Marianne sang duet.  

Marianne let her hand fall from Dawn’s face.

Sunny hit every drum in the kit, ending with a cymbal crash. 

After the drum solo Bog stopped playing as well, leaving Marianne to sing the last line acapella.

“Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning, waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile” Marianne let her voice trail off.

There was one perfect moment of dead silence before the room erupted into applause. There was hardly a dry eye in the place. Marianne replaced the microphone to the stand in front of her so the two sisters could hug properly. Dawn’s tears were flowing freely now. 

The sister’s shared another, secret smile, one that communicated their love for each other without words.  


	2. Cecelia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn makes a realization.  
> Bog and Marianne become better acquainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not what I originally planed for a part two. And then it got too long... and yeah..

Marianne stood on the wide, white veranda that surrounded the main building of the Fairfolk Country Club. It was a beautiful spring night and a light breeze swept through her short hair. A perfect full moon illuminated the blooming gardens below her. Gardens that Bog had tended to with his hands, she blushed a little thinking about him. Bog had big hands with nice long fingers, good for playing guitar… and other things.

Marianne, giggled, and then snorted, _very unladylike_ , but there was no one else outside to hear her. Not that she would have cared if someone had. Marianne wanted to howl to the moon. She had the urge to slip off her sandals and go running barefoot through the grass on the lawn. It was still brown in spots but after a few more weeks of rain and a couple days of sunshine it would be a vibrant green all over.

She swirled her second, or was it her third, glass of wine in her hand before bringing it to her purple tinted lips and downing the rest of it in one go. She felt her cheeks flush but she didn’t care. Marianne was beginning to itch. She needed to get out of this place. The country club was too clean, too fresh, and ultimately too white.  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Mentally she formulated her plan, enter the room, find Dawn, say her good-byes, and leave.

Marianne took a deep breath, turned around, and swayed dangerously to the side. She threw out her arm to catch herself on the railing. She was having trouble with the first part of her plan already.

Enter the room, she reminded herself. The glass doors that lead to the veranda seemed so far away suddenly. Her vision swam and she pitched forward imagining the door handle much closer than it actually was.

“Marianne, Marianne?” Dawn called out her sister’s name.

“Marianne- there you are!” Dawn squeaked when she saw her sister outside, Sunny came out behind her.

“I’ve been all over this place looking for you” Dawn said, waving her arms expressively.

Marianne groaned and brought her hand to her stomach, the wine glass slipped through her fingers. The crystal smashed on impact with the deck.

“I think someone has had a little too much to drink” Dawn said, pulling a face of disappointment.  

“Sunny do you think you could go find some help?” Dawn asked her friend sweetly.

Not that Sunny needed the extra encouragement he wouldn’t have refused Dawn anything.

“Which of us is supposed to be the reasonable older sister again?” Dawn asked, helping Marianne to sit down, avoiding the broken glass.

“Me?” Marianne asked after a minute of thinking, she pointed sheepishly to herself.

“That’s right” Dawn said. She smiled encouragingly, as if she were a teacher and Marianne a grade school student.

“I don’t feel so good” Marianne moaned.

“No wonder” Dawn snorted, taking a seat next to her sister, leaning her back against the railings.

“I’m sick of this place too” Dawn admitted, tilting her head back. Her desired view of the night sky was blocked by the overhanging roof. 

“Really?” Marianne asked, crinkling her nose, “I thought you liked all this” Marianne motioned her hand towards the building as she searched for an accurate word, “stuff” she settled at last.

It was Dawn’s turn to crinkle her nose, “I thought I did too, but it hasn’t been the same since you left. If I’m honest it hasn’t been the same since mom died.”

It was hard for Dawn to admit that, even to her sister. Dawn had been born to be in a place like this, she had always fit in, much better than Marianne.

Marianne continued to look at her sister skeptically.

Dawn leveled a glare at her sister, “just because I can walk-the-walk, and talk-the-talk doesn’t mean I should have to. I feel like I’m acting all the time. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you.” 

The sisters shared a moment of silence before Sunny returned, with Bog King in tow.

Marianne felt the blood drain from her face. It could have been worse she supposed.

Marianne tried to supress a giggle.

Bog bent down beside her and offered his assistance. He looked her in the eyes. His seemed to glow in the moonlight.

“Come on tough girl” he whispered to her, extending his hand.

Marianne shivered at his voice, at the phrase.

_Rough fingers pressing a Band-Aid to her knee, “there you go tough girl, good as new.”_

“Will it always be you coming to my rescue” Marianne murmured, looking up at Bog through her lashes.

He gave her a funny look, but she took his hand and he helped her to her feet.

Marianne tried to find her balance but ended up falling too fair forward, her forehead hit his shoulder and her arms went around his waist.  She inhaled sharply and her nose filled instantly with the woodsy scent of his cologne. He smelled good.

Bog went rigid under her touch. When Sunny found him and discreetly told him he needed his help outside he never imagined it would be for Marianne. The light floral scent of her got caught in his nose and his mouth went dry. She smelled good.    

A wave of dizziness hit Marianne and she stumbled backwards a bit. Bog didn’t even hesitate. His hand was at her back in a flash. The heat of his hand seeped through the fabric of her dress. His hand pressed firmly to the small of her back, his fingers splayed to cover the largest area possible. Marianne gripped at his shoulder to help steady herself.

Bog’s heart thumped loudly and rapidly in his chest, and his breath came out in small forced pants. She was so beautiful.  

Marianne was also feeling a little breathless as she leaned back into Bog’s touch to gaze up at him. The lines of his face were gorgeous, absolutely beautiful. She longed to run her thumb over his sharp cheek, to kiss his soft looking lips. 

“Thank you” Marianne said, her voice husky.

She watched with rapt attention as Bog’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

 “No problem” he said, his voice distant sounding, and rough.

“Come on, let’s get you home” Dawn said, oblivious to the tension between her sister and Bog.

Bog blinked several times as he came back to himself and remembered where he was. In a moment of panic he removed himself from Marianne.

She swayed but stayed on her feet, and Dawn was at her side, supporting her.  

Marianne shivered and rubbed at her arms as the chill of the spring night hit her for the first time.

“Here” Bog said, shrugging out of his worn leather jacket.

Bog and Dawn helped to drape it over Marianne’s shoulders. 

“Sunny’s lucky he caught me, Ah was getting ready to leave” Bog explained.

***

The four of them snuck back through the party without incident. Even if anyone noticed the odd quartet no one found reason enough to stop them. 

“I’m sorry I’m making you leave your party early” Marianne whined, looking at Dawn regretfully.

“Don’t worry about it” Dawn said, waving away her sister’s concern. “I told you I was bored anyway.”

“I thought I got you a full dance card” Sunny mourned. It had been hard work going around to all the guys Dawn had declared “cute” and asking them if they would dance with her. Of course they had all said yes. There wasn’t a guy at the club who wouldn’t want to dance with Dawn Faye.

“Ugh, those guys are all so, boring” Dawn admitted with a look of mild disgust. 

Sunny was crestfallen. If she thought the guys at the club were boring she’d never look at him romantically. At least they all played sports like polo, or golf. They would all grow up to be lawyers or oil tycoons. They all drove fancy sports cars and had never had to wonder where money came from it was simply something they had.

“I mean, they’re all the same” Dawn elaborated, “I need somebody _Different_ , ya know?”

She turned and smiled sweetly at Sunny, and his heart did a crazy little flip.

A frim hand on Sunny’s shoulder stopped him from making a fool of himself.

“Easy there lover boy” Bog whispered rough against his ear.

Sunny exhaled another frustrated sigh, did everyone know he was in love with Dawn, except for Dawn…

“Anyway” Dawn continued, “nothing else could happen tonight to make it any better than it already is. I don’t think anything could top Marianne’s singing.”

“Gee, thanks sis” Marianne blushed a little at her sister’s praise.

“I couldn’t have done it without these guys though” she added, thumbing at Bog and Sunny who had ended up walking several paces behind the sisters.

“Yeah” Dawn giggled, “you looked so cute up there behind the drum kit Sunny!”

“I did?” he asked, his voice rising nervously.

“Hey look, we match!” Dawn exclaimed with glee.

“We do?” Sunny asked. Both Bog and Marianne found his note of surprise lacking in sincerity but Dawn didn’t seem to pick up on his hint of distress.

Sunny tugged at his bow-tie loosening it some.

“I should have danced with you” she said sweetly, “dad would have flipped!” Dawn had a dangerous glint in her eye and her cheeks flushed brightly at the thought of dancing with her best friend.

Sunny had started to smile at the thought of dancing with Dawn but it quickly fell to a frown when she mentioned using it as a ploy to cause sensationalism. She just didn’t see the looks people shot their way when they were out together. _It must be nice to be so naïve_ , he thought bitterly.

Dawn started humming Whitney Huston’s _I Wanna Dance with Somebody_.  

Marianne, while sobering up was still riding her drunken high, picked up on the song her sister was humming. In no time the two sisters were singing out loud and dancing around the parking lot. The sisters clasped hands and spun one another in dizzying circles until Marianne thought she was going to hurl.   

Eventually they made it to Sunny’s car, a used 2010, two-door, red Honda Civic. The sisters got in the car with only minor difficulties after Dawn successfully argued that _she_ should be the one to sit in the back should Marianne feel the need to get sick.

“Thanks again man,” Sunny said as he and Bog bumped fists.

“No problem.”

It wasn’t until Bog was standing in the empty parking lot, watching Sunny drive away he remembered Marianne still had his good leather jacket.

“Shit” Bog said, kicking out at a stray rock and scuffing his one good pair of dress shoes in the process. 

***

Marianne didn’t realise she still had Bog’s jacket until she went to take it off to change into her pajamas. 

“Oh shit” she said. Maybe she could leave it with Sunny and he could give it back to Bog?

Marianne held the jacket up to her face and guilty inhaled the scent, a mixture of leather, Bog’s cologne, and old cigarette smoke.

As Marianne snuggled beneath the sheets of her single bed, the one she hadn’t slept in for years, she brought the jacket with her. She wrapped it around her spare pillow, the one she always hugged to her chest, and pulled it close. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge, just this once, she thought. 

Morning came all too soon and with it a bubbly bouncy Dawn.

Dawn burst into Marianne’s room and lay down on top of her bed. She settled onto her front and swung her legs back and forth in the air. Marianne opened her eyes a crack at the intrusion but quickly closed them against the brightness of the room. She had forgotten how thin the curtains were; she had blackout curtains in the room in her apartment.

“I kissed the most perfect boy last night” Dawn sighed dreamily. 

“In your dreams?” Marianne mumbled sleepily.

“No silly, in reality!” Dawn tutted playfully.

Marianne frowned in confusion, “who” she managed to croak out.

“Sunny!” Dawn squeaked.

“What!” Marianne exclaimed, sitting straight up, almost knocking Dawn off the bed.

Dawn blushed a deep and violent red but didn’t back down. “Yeah” she explained, “after I made sure you got dressed okay I went back downstairs and Sunny was still there. I asked him to stay for a bit and we ended up watching a movie. When he was leaving to go home I just kissed him!” Dawn sounded so surprised, like even she couldn’t believe how bold she had been.

“I didn’t even think about it, it was like we’d been doing it for years, you know? It just came so natural.” Dawn rolled over onto her back, clutching her hands, which were holding her cellphone, to her chest.

“So, are you guys dating now?” Marianne asked, her hungover and sleep addled brain tried to follow the conversation but wasn’t doing a good job of keeping up.  

“I don’t know” Dawn admitted, uncertain. 

Marianne clutched at her head, “maybe you should find out?”

“So that’s the good news” Dawn segued.

Marianne rubbed at her temples, she hadn’t realised this was a good-news bad-news scenario. She lay back down in bed.  She hadn’t even been in her hometown for 24 hours yet and already she was itching to leave.

“Ok, hit me, what’s the bad news?” Marianne asked.

Dawn’s voice became quiet, “someone took pictures of you and Boggy when you were on the veranda.”

Marianne threw her right arm dramatically over her eyes as she let out a groan of frustration. Almost seven years of being a “famous person” (and she used that term loosely when applying it to herself) and she hadn’t had one incident. Nothing the paparazzi ever took notice of anyway. She was a virtual nobody in the world of celebrities, there was always someone else who had done something way worse or more public than her for them to take notice of little ol’ her. To put it simply she wasn’t exactly a ‘Kardashian’, no one was going to pay big bucks for pictures of her running out to buy groceries in sweatpants.

Not many people had known she was going to be here. Her manager, her bandmates, her family, and of course Griselda had all known in advance. Marianne didn’t think any of them would have phoned up TMZ to disclose her location. Therefore it had to have been someone at the Country Club. 

“Roland” Marianne growled. She hadn’t seen him there but she’d bet anything that Roland had called her in. Hell maybe he had even taken the pictures himself and sent them in. No doubt some ill-conceived attempt at petty revenge. She could just imagine the headlines now. 

“How bad is it?” There would be lots to talk about. For the seven years Marianne had been in the public eye she had never dated anyone. She dreaded reading the nicknames that they could have come up with for Bog, “hometown honey” or “secret sweetheart” the very thought made her want to gag.

“Not that bad” Dawn said, showing the images to her sister on her phone. 

The website was TMZ but it wasn’t their headlining article. There were three pictures in all, they must have been taken with a long lens because they were very close up, and neither Dawn nor Sunny appeared in any of the photos. The first was of Marianne’s head resting on Bog’s shoulder, in the second picture their faces were so close together it looked like they had just come away from a kiss, in the third Bog was in the process of taking off his jacket. Sure enough the excerpt below the photos named Bog only as Marianne’s “Mystery Man.”

Marianne silently exhaled a sigh of relief, Dawn was right these didn’t look that bad at all. The angle of the photos suggested the person would have had to been out in the gardens somewhere. Upon closer inspection the pictures were actually kind of grainy; it was hard to even make out Bog’s face. Marianne wondered if maybe they weren’t taken on a cellphone after all. One thing seemed off. Why were there no pictures of Marianne from when she was alone? Surely ‘drunk and alone’ was a better angle?

“FYI you two look super cute together” Dawn said, snuggling close to her sister.

Marianne snorted.  

“What, you do” Dawn said firmly, then turned thoughtful. At last she asked, “Didn’t you, like, have a crush on him?”

Marianne felt her face warm and she tried to turn away from Dawn, “no” she mumbled into her pillow.

“No?” Dawn asked, all curious-innocent, “then why did you sleep with his jacket last night!” Dawn accused making a grab for the garment.

“Dawn!” Marianne shrieked, trying to get it back, but Dawn just jumped up off the bed and ran down the hallway to her room.

***

Marianne sat slouched in the parked car across the street from the address Griselda had provided her with. It was just after one in the afternoon. She had showered and had breakfast and decided to do the decent thing and return Bog’s jacket to him in person.  Marianne checked and double checked the sidewalk and the road. No one had followed her here. There was no one standing around looking suspicious. She hoped dearly that Bog didn’t read celebrity articles, that he hadn’t seen the photos yet, and that he would accept her apology. 

She pulled her ball cap down some to cover her face more, grabbed Bog’s jacket from the passenger seat of her car, and made a dash for the front door. The King home was a modest single level Ranch style and resided in a well-established neighbourhood that was neither upscale nor impoverished. The trees that lined the sidewalk were big and old, many of them already sporting buds for new leaves.  They type of neighbourhood where old people sat around on their front porches judging anyone unfortunate enough to walk by.

Marianne clutched Bog’s jacket as if it were a security blanket as she dashed across the street. She was nervous, why was she nervous? A pair of birds tweeted as they flew overhead and Marianne sighed happily, she loved this time of year; spring!

The front of the house was brick and the door was painted a vibrant red. Marianne rang the doorbell and waited. 

Bog hadn’t been expecting anyone so when he opened the front door he was more than a little confused to find Marianne standing there, holding his jacket.

***

“Marianne?”

“Hi” she said, wiggling her fingers at him, in what he thought was a very cute gesture. 

“May I come in?” she asked.

“Sure” Bog said, opening the storm door for her.

The doorway was suddenly a very tight space and Bog tried not to breathe as Marianne slipped in past him.  

The first thing Marianne notice inside the entrance way was a giant crocodile skull.  It startled her and she took a step backwards and collided with Bog.

She turned to face him with a bright smile.

“I hope I didn’t wake you?” she asked, looking him over.

Bog felt his face warm, but then he caught sight of his reflection in the front hall mirror and paled considerably. He hadn’t been asleep but his hair was a mess from running his hands through it, he was wearing sweatpants and an old Ramones t-shit that had a small hole in the side. He hadn’t shaved since the night before for the ball and a line of prickly looking stubble ran down his jaw.

“Ah, no, Ah was awake” Bog stammered.

Marianne looked relieved, “oh good!” She rocked back and forth on her heels.

They stood there for a minute in awkward silence looking anywhere but at each other.  When they did speak again it was at the same time

“I came to return your jacket-”

“I see you have my jacket-”

They both blushed and looked away from each other once more. 

Bog was afraid to ask what Marianne thought of his humble home. She was probably used to a much finer living space. He imagined the apartment she rented in the big city probably cost more than his family home.

Marianne was enamoured with Bog’s home, quaint though it may be. Pictures lined the wall, mostly of Bog as a child, and of his graduation. Some of the photos contained an older man that just _had_ to be Bog’s father, and a few of a much younger Griselda. Marianne reckoned she was quite the looker in her day.

“What a lovely home” Marianne said at last.

Bog was startled by her sincerity, “thank you.”

The house she grew up in was more like a museum; the main floor only had paintings and other artistic photography on the walls, and valuable vases one wasn’t allowed to touch. The only pictures of her mother on display were the ones her and Dawn each kept in their rooms.  

 Marianne suddenly remembered her teasing promise from yesterday, “would you like for me to sign something for you while I’m here” she offered.

“Sure” Bog said, surprised she remembered.

“Here, let me take that” Bog said, reaching out for his jacket.

“Oh, right. Of course” Marianne stumbled over her words, embarrassed that she had forgotten she was holding his jacket.

Bog folded it lovingly and draped it over the back of a chair as he walked past the open livingroom. Not for the first time Marianne wondered if perhaps the brown leather jacket had belonged to Bog’s father.

Marianne followed Bog down the hall.

“Please excuse the mess” he said as he opened the door at the end of the hall.

It was only then Marianne realised he had led her to his bedroom.

The first thing Marianne noticed was the two huge posters on the opposite wall, they were both of her. The one on the left was a collage of photos, one taken from every episode of the singing show she had won. Twelve smaller pictures made up the border with one larger one in the middle. It was arguably the most recognizable image of Marianne, the very first one that came up on Google Image Search; she knew because she had checked. In it Marianne was wearing a red, floor-length, formal gown that sparkled with hints of gold and had a slit in the side clean up to her thigh. She was standing in a spotlight of blueish light while red rose petals rained down on her from above. Her eyes were closed in a moment of ecstasy as she hit a high note in the chorus of Bon Jovi’s _Bed of Roses_.  This poster also served as the cover to her first CD, a compilation of all the songs she covered on the show, including her “break-out” single. 

The second poster was of Marianne and her band. The girls were all dressed in tank-tops and t-shirts in various ripped states, lots of fishnets, leather, and lace.  They were all dressed in black and each girl had an accent colour, Marianne purple, Kitty pink, Lizzie green, and Eve blue. Marianne stood front and center holding up her Ernie Ball Music Man John Petrucci Monarchy Majesty Electric Guitar in Majestic Purple. Kitty sat behind her drum kit, Lizzie stood back-to-back with Marianne her foot propped up on an amp and dangling her Ibanez SR Premium 1400E Electric Bass Guitar in Mojito Lime Green by its neck. Eve stood at her keyboard dressed like Zatanna Zatara looking like she was about to laydown some serious Beethoven.   

Bog saw Marianne staring at the posters and nervously cleared his throat. Could today get anymore awkward?  

“Would you like me to sign the posters?” Marianne asked.

“Ah, sure. Here” Bog said offering her a black felt-tip marker.  

Marianne signed her name as a large cursive M with lots of embellishments and followed it with a series of squiggles. She added a large XOXO to each.

Marianne wasn’t sure what “mess” Bog had referred to; there was virtually nothing out of place. Half of the room was dedicated to an office type space with a large computer desk. Bog’s acoustic guitar sat on its stand in the corner, along with a decent model red bass electric. His large bed had been made although it was covered in sheets of lined paper.

“Oh do you write poems?” Marianne asked, walking over to the bed.

Bog winced, he had hoped she wouldn’t notice those, “songs actually” he admitted.

Marianne turned back to look at him, “you write songs, that’s amazing!”

Bog blushed at her praise, and yet watched in horror as Marianne picked up a random page.  

“ _Wish I didn’t feel so alone/ when it’s you that makes me whole/ this creeping emptiness inside/ is something I just can’t hide_ ” Marianne sang out the lyrics on the page and Bog was struck dumb. 

She sang them in a different pitch and register than he would have. The words came alive for her in a way that just hadn’t been able to for him. She sang it like a raspy rock ballad.

“These are really good, Bog” Marianne said encouragingly as she silently read a few more lyrics. She knew they must be deeply personal to Bog for him to write them but they also resonated with her. 

“You know, I’m about two songs short for my new CD” Marianne said, more to herself than Bog.

 She stopped herself and looked up at Bog, who still stood there mouth agape staring at her.

“I’m not saying you have to” Marianne tried to back pedal, “It doesn’t have to be this song-” she said rattling the paper in her hand. Bog eyes just seemed to widen more and more.

“Don’t feel like you have to say yes, just because it’s me” Marianne finished sheepishly, “but if you wanted to would you like to write, or at least help me write, a couple songs?” 

Bog couldn’t believe the gift he had just been given. Of course he wanted to write a song for her, but his mouth was having trouble finding the words. Instead he nodded enthusiastically.

“Aye, Ah would” he choked out at last. 

***

Two hours later saw them still working on songs together. Bog sat on his bed surrounded by his papers, one leg folded under him, the other dangling over the side. Marianne paced the floor in front of his bed trying out the lyrics with different inflections.

“ _I thought I learned my lesson/ but this is more than an obsession/ sometimes I fall too hard, too fast/ all these emotions back from the past_.”

Every time she sang his words Bog could feel himself falling in love with her just a little more. After each verse she’d turn to look at him and cock her head to the side, seeking his approval. He would nod and she would smile. Sometimes Marianne would change a word or two to help the song flow a little better, or to make it sound like something she would say naturally. Other times she would correct herself, readjust her vocals and sing the line again. 

For the moment there was silence between them, the only sound Bog’s pencil scratching on his note pad. Down the hallway Griselda’s bird clock chirped the hour. 

The annoying bird song startled Marianne out of her revere and she glanced around Bog’s room looking for the time.  The digital clock on his night stand read 4:00.

“Shit,” Marianne swore, “is it really four o’clock? I have to go!”

Bog blinked, looking up from his page. Where had the time gone! Four o’clock, he had to go shower and get ready for tonight.

“Dawn’s taking me out tonight and-” Marianne said, flustered. Really, where had the day gone?

“Tha’s fine” Bog assured her, not wanting to rush her, but needing her to leave all the same.

“I had a great time today, I think we made some real progress and- wait, how are we going to do this? Give me your number” Marianne said whipping out her phone, “I’ll text or call you once I’m back in the city and we can arrange a time for you to come out.”

“Good idea, good idea” Bog nodded, and rattled off the number.

Now that they weren’t focused on work both of them became awkward around each other once more. Without something else to distract her Marianne couldn’t help but focus on Bog. He really was even more attractive than she remembered, and he was so sweet too.

Marianne almost picked up his jacket from the back of the chair, forgetting it wasn’t hers.   

“I guess we’ll talk later” Marianne said, pocketing her phone. She was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, just a little.

“Ah yeah, later” Bog agreed rocking on his heels, and scratching at the back of his neck.  

As Marianne turned to leave she was caught off guard by the crocodile skull again.

“You ah, may want to re-think this entrance” she said motioning to the frightening looking skull. 

Bog let out a soft chuckle, “huh, yeah.”

He stood there grinning like a fool, until Marianne pulled away in her car.

It wasn’t until Bog was back in his room he realised, if Dawn was taking Marianne out tonight they were probably going to see Sunny play.

“Shit!” he cursed, and rushed off to get ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway the chapter title is from the Simon & Garfunkel song.  
> Many people believe the song is not about a woman per se, but about a muse.  
> Bog and Marianne both become each other's muses. 
> 
> *Also Bog's "lyrics" are actually lines from a poem I wrote in 2010


End file.
